


Have We Met In Montauk?

by writingramblr



Category: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Crying During Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind AU, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Shaving Kink, Suicidal Thoughts, Wet & Messy, bc of the omega slick, borderline dubious consent, explict graphic sexual content, im so out of practice sorry guys, lots of smut, no im not going to list all the kinks sorry but they will be warned for, not between Gradence, on every corresponding chapter thanks, salad tossing and macaroni stirring, shotgunning? maybe, smoking cannibis, wut is a tage, you'll know whomst does what when we get there and not a second sooner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Graves is disillusioned with the idea of love, romance, finding the True One, whatever that means nowadays.And yet... He keeps stumbling into a beguiling dark haired man who seems hauntingly familiar, maybe a mistake, or the best decision he has ever made, following along and chasing a feeling.An Instinct.Is it even a Choice anymore, or Fate itself?He will have to discover the truth as he goes...
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Newt Scamander, Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	1. The Bar Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> chapter content warnings before each chapter/kinks described graphically therein, etc etc
> 
> ***this chapter contains nonverbal consent***

“Do you come here often?” Someone is asking him, making Percy startle alert from where he was staring off into space, more accurately, directly at a bottle of vanilla crown, while chill synthwave music fills the background. “First time.” He says, just slightly loud enough to be heard over the bar chatter and the computer created music. 

“I thought so. You look a touch disappointed, very lonely. Mind if I join you, while I wait for my friend?” 

Percy looks now, because the voice seems vaguely familiar, belonging to a distractedly pretty young man,  _ much younger _ than him, he thinks, stricken instantly with guilt for both assuming he’s being hit on, and that he would even be receptive to such a thing.  _ Why does He fall in love with every charming man who merely shows him a spec of attention?  _

“Maybe, but you probably shouldn’t sit too close.” 

Bringing a hand to his face to push a stray black wave behind his ear, the younger man smiles. 

“Is that six feet thing still being enforced? It’s been over a decade now, surely.” 

Percy tilts his head, “Just the ten years. But you’re probably too young to remember that, much less make a joke about it.” The guy laughs. “Ouch. Even kids read the news back then, you know? So is that a no?” Percy shrugs.

“No, no, I suppose you can join me. I thought I was making friends with our bartender, but it turns out he’s just a professional conman, I heard him tell another customer as they were leaving.” He’s not bitter enough  _ not _ to tip, but he does feel a twinge of regret for throwing a twenty into the tip jar. Percy’s bar tab isn’t even that high yet. “The name’s Credence, and yeah, don’t trust these guys. They’re just making nice, because it’s their job. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that?” 

Percy takes the guy’s offered hand, his skin cool feels to the touch, pale as moonlight, and he catches the tail end of a smirk on the pretty face framed by dark curls that just barely brush the edge of a sharp jawline.

“Well Credence, when you get to be my age, it’s easier to mistake dedicated attention as interest.” 

He turns back to his drink, mostly now melted ice watering down what once was overpriced scotch, no doubt. 

Credence sniffs in seemingly mild disbelief, and then taps his finger on the bartop. 

“Don’t degrade yourself like that, you’re what? Thirty-five? Hardly old.” 

Percy snorts, twirling his straw, stirring the light amber liquid. “Try forty.” Credence tilts his head, gazing at him. “Well, the point still stands. You’re much cuter than the friend I’m waiting for.”

Percy blinks. “That’s not very nice.” He drains his glass and watches the bartender at the end of the counter, as they are chatting and gesturing wildly, most likely regaling their new customers with the tail of how their latest fireshow nearly caught their ponytail on fire. 

_ ‘It’s why I dyed it red and yellow orange, to remind myself to be more careful.’  _ Percy mimics under his breath, glowering at the cup of stir straws. 

“My friend isn’t a hot guy in his prime who I’d like to fuck, if it makes you feel any better. So, can I have your name now?” Credence says, jolting him back out of his jealous haze, and Percy can barely think straight, still processing what he’s just heard. “Is that a pickup line? I’m, uh, very out of practice.” He finally answers. 

Credence shrugs. “Maybe. Didn’t you come here to get picked up?” Percy can’t really refute that. 

He’s not some pathetic loner in a bar because he has no friends from being a workaholic, not at all. 

In fact, he’s far from a loser. The top attorney, bringing in the most clients on the quarter’s roster. 

Sera should be there buying  _ him _ drinks and thanking him, but her way of saying thank you comes in the form of a Visa gift card on his birthday for one hundred times whatever age he’s turning. 

Ever since he made partner, she’s been like this. A perfect friend on paper, terrible at socializing outside work.  _ Think of it like an early christmas bonus _ , she’ll say, with a hand on Percy’s shoulder, a light squeeze. 

Looking at him like she’s sorry for... for something he doesn’t know how to name. 

Right now, it feels like existing is the hardest job in the world he’s ever held down. “It’s just Percy.” He says.

Credence looks at him with a softened expression. “Thank you. That’s a great name. Very elegant. Suits you.” Percy nods, like he’s agreeing, even though all it is can be boiled down to the result of having a mother who adored classic literature and thought she was being clever by choosing not to name him according to the trends of his birth year. “So what happens next? Do I need to buy  _ you _ a drink now?” Percy asks.

Credence checks his watch, a slim digital piece that appears to almost float on his wrist. 

“You can, or do you wanna get out of here?” Percy inhales sharply. “What about your friend?” 

Credence’s dark eyes lock on his for a long few seconds that seem to drag out, slowing time. 

“I told them I met the catch of a lifetime. They understood.” Percy swallows thickly. “So I’ll get the check.” 

Looking the bartender in the eye now doesn’t sting quite as much, feeling the heat of Credence at his side, standing so close that Percy can smell his cologne. It makes him dizzy, even beyond everything else. 

Taking his card back, signing the receipt, declining his own copy. 

The walk to the street, hailing a rideshare, it’s all becoming a bit blurry, despite how little Percy even drank. “We’re going to your place?” He asks, amid some mild confusion, feeling the car turning to go north, towards the East Side. They might even be neighbors. He definitely didn’t give the driver  _ his _ address. 

Credence’s hand suddenly burns a hole through Percy’s thigh as he sets it down there, finding his leg in the darkness of the car, squeezing gently. “Yes. Is that okay?” Percy just nods at him, trying to focus on the basics. 

Breathe in, breathe out, don’t say anything stupid. 

Credence pats his leg one final time and then lets go, pulling out his phone, tapping away with a speed that rivals a machine. “Force of habit. Don’t worry, I go tech silent when I have company.” Credence murmurs, as if to reassure Percy he’s not ignoring him, just catching up on all his social media for the night. 

“Oh, okay, that’s fine. I don’t-” Another brush of Credence’s hand on his thigh. “I would never be so rude.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy new year! update timeeeeeeeee hahah  
> tw : lots of gross messy a/b/o sex sorry

The apartment complex is unassuming, designed in the style of an old fashioned brownstone, contrasting so far from Percy’s glass and steel condo that he’s helplessly charmed. Credence’s keys are burnished copper, clinking in that satisfying way that’s impossible to describe, right out of an old movie. 

Inside, there’s a smoldering fireplace, throwing off so much warmth Percy has to shed his coat immediately, before moving closer, seeing it’s a digital display, with high definition picture, and the very crisp sound of the crackling wood, snapping sparks, and it almost makes him wish for some marshmallows. “You like it?” Credence is asking him, voice low, soft, as if he’s craving approval for his decor choices. 

“Oh yeah, it’s stunning. Very safe too. You can leave this burning all night and day.” 

Not like in the olden days, when Percy grew up. Credence nods, smiling, biting his lip a little. 

“Tech makes so many things easier. Others, not so much. Can I get you a nightcap?” 

Another drink before any clothes come off? Percy can’t help but nod. He feels helpless, and far too sober. 

Following Credence towards his minibar just to the left of the homey looking kitchen, he realizes he still has his shoes on. The paranoia of 2020 definitely instilled one thing in him, just how many germs and contaminants people carry around and into their houses every night. “Be right back.” 

He didn’t even notice Credence doing the same, having already slipped out of his shoes, while Percy had been ogling the fireplace, no doubt. He sets his brown leather oxfords beside Credence’s black rain boots, and hurriedly returns to the kitchen, finding a tumbler with a giant ice cube awaiting his preferred choice of liquor. Credence is already sipping something that looks rather green. 

“What’s that?” Percy asks, and he nods to the glass. 

“I call it a Loki. Absinthe and lime vodka, with a couple drops of sativa and a dash of simple syrup. I know it’s silly, but I miss smoking. This is the closest I can get now, while saving my lungs.” Credence takes a big gulp, and seems to savor it going down. “That sounds… interesting.” Percy remembers sneaking joints behind the bleachers in high school, then later rolling them himself in college, and finally, before the ban of inhalable carcinogens, buying himself one exceptional cuban cigar laced with ‘purple rain.’ 

It had been a very nice birthday celebration, turning Thirty. 

“I promise it’s a mellow high. You won’t even have a hangover, no matter how much you drink, as long as you supplement anything you swallow with this.” Percy’s mind jumps, and he can feel his face growing hot, when all he did was picture the idea of getting Credence’s pants off and his mouth  _ on _ something in return. “Okay.”

He watches Credence work, and Percy can’t help wondering if he bar-tends on the side, or maybe did it for work not too long ago. “So, what’s your job?” He finally blurts out, as Credence adds the final touch, a twist of lime around the rim of the glass, delicately setting the green peel on the top of the ice cube, still above the liquid. 

“Public relations for Senator Shaw.” Credence says, a tight smile chasing away his formerly relaxed and flirty demeanor. Percy’s nostrils flare. Politics, the one thing that can ruin even the chillest of potential hookups. 

“Ah, sounds stressful.” Credence nods, taking another sip of his drink, pressing his lips together, and swallowing. The moment lasts for a few more seconds, then Percy decides to push on, lifting his glass to hold it out to Credence’s, “Cheers.” It tastes more like a question on his tongue. 

The soft clink of Credence’s glass against Percy’s rings in his ears as he takes the first sip. 

Originally, he expected to notice the sativa right away, because he had seen how big those three drops of oil were, before Credence stirred them in, adding the syrup and vodka. Instead of being obvious, it hits him slowly, followed by a touch of mint. Or rather, he can  _ smell _ mint, vanilla, and something else. 

“You’re an omega.” Percy blurts out. Blaming it on the alcohol or the weed isn’t valid. 

Credence glances up at him from beneath his heavy dark lashes, color blooming in his cheeks. 

“You just now noticed?” With so many other distractions, noises and scents included in the bar, the car ride being tense due to Percy’s own social anxiety, he truly  _ didn’t _ even bother to breathe that deeply. “Yes.”

Credence finishes his drink and holds himself stiffly, as if anticipating the worst. “And is that a problem?”

Percy shakes his head, “Of course not. God, I hope I didn’t sound like some kind of bigot.” Credence smiles. 

“No, but you know that no matter how many laws get passed to protect us, that is never going to stop human nature. I’m sure you must be wondering about Shaw. Why I work for him, inherently supporting him. He’s one of the few Republicans who stood up against our former president. I respect that. It was a big risk, even when his family owned influential media, the other eighty percent could have vilified him and his son.”

Percy keeps up with things enough to know that Henry Junior is planning to run for president in a few years. “That’s great. I think you’ve got a bright future ahead of you.” Credence makes a face. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” Percy frowns, confused. 

“Try to minimize what I do, who I work for, as if it doesn’t bother you. It’s my fault though, I should know better than to bring that shit up on a, a-” Credence breaks off, clearly frustrated. 

“Whatever this is?” Percy tries to offer, helpfully, and the omega nods. “Yeah, exactly.” 

Percy finishes his drink and starts to feel  _ it _ , without a shadow of doubt, so he sets his empty glass down and makes his way around the minibar. Credence watches him with half lidded eyes the whole time, until he’s within a few inches of the omega. “Can I make it up to you by, um, sucking you off?” Percy asks, praying his voice doesn’t waver or give away his nerves. No amount of THC is going to erase the ‘make the first move’ jitters. 

Credence inhales sharply. “You want to do that to me?” 

Percy nods. 

“You’re in charge. I could sense it from the moment we met. You  _ approached _ me. Hardly a cliche now, is it?” Credence smiles properly now, it’s beautiful to witness. “Yes, then. You may.” Percy leans in, rising up on his tiptoes, pressing his lips against Credence’s, catching the tail end of a gasp, which melts into a low moan. 

The bedroom decor is as warm and welcoming as the rest of the omega’s apartment, with soft golds blending into red and blacks, a hint of navy here and there. Percy doesn’t really get much time to appreciate it, with Credence helping him get off his shirt and undoing his pants, leaving him in just sock feet as he collapses backwards onto his bed. Percy goes to his knees, slowly, careful not to potentially bruise his shins, and settles in between Credence’s spread legs, both hands cupping over the omega’s thighs. 

He shivers, looking down at Percy, eyes blown dark, brown melting into black, color rising high in his cheeks. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He nods, “Why wouldn’t I?” Credence shrugs, lifting his hips to help Percy as he starts to tug down the charcoal grey of his boxer briefs. “Just don’t chicken out on me now when you see it.” 

It’s pure instinct to growl, but Percy doesn’t want to fall into the typical Alpha mindset, so he just says quietly, “Size doesn’t matter, it’s what you do with it.” Credence exhales shakily, and lays flat on the bed. 

“Okay, then I’ll enjoy your reaction to this.” Percy glances down, catching a glimpse of the omega’s cock, flushed pink and pretty, shiny wet at the tip, emerging inch by inch from beneath the fabric of his underwear. It seems like it never ends, until Percy gets the waistband of Credence’s briefs down to mid thigh, and he feels his mouth watering. To say omega’s typically aren’t well hung isn’t being mean, it’s just a fact. Environmental concerns aside, they aren’t usually able to procreate without scientific alternation, so there’s little need for it. 

The deeper penetration required for proper seeding, along with the aid of knotting can always be achieved by an Alpha, whereas omegan phalluses are meant purely for pleasure to oneself and their partners. 

Percy, kneeling on the floor, philosophizing about dick size, leans forward to shut his own brain up, putting his tongue to the underside of the shaft, hearing how Credence responds immediately with a loud groan. “Fuck.”

Putting his own arousal into a small box inside his hind-brain and ignoring it is difficult, but it’s far more challenging, not to mention  _ fun _ , trying to figure out how he’ll be able to fit all of  _ that _ gorgeous cock into his mouth. He starts off slow, framing Credence’s waist with his hands, spanning the omega’s slender hips, sliding his lips and tongue over the length of him, teasing gently with wet kisses and long laps of his tongue. 

Percy’s eyes fall shut after a few seconds, so he startles mildly at the first touch of a hand to his head, Credence’s fingers rubbing over his scalp, then grabbing firmly onto his hair, keeping him close. 

He leans up higher to take the head of Credence’s cock into his mouth, lips held taut, tongue pressing into the slit, flicking lightly against the glans, letting one hand drift across the omega’s stomach, his fingertips gently tracing mindless circles on his skin. Slowly, Percy brings that hand down to curl around the base of Credence’s cock, guiding it up and deeper into his mouth, continuing to maintain suction and swallowing every trace of sweet precum that oozes out onto his tongue. 

Throughout, Credence has been making louder and louder noises, until eventually his thighs begin to clamp tightly around Percy’s shoulders, and he uses his free hand to guide Credence’s legs up and onto them, so the omega can link his ankles behind his upper back while he pleasures him. That hand slides under Credence’s ass, cautiously searching for the slick cleft he can  _ smell _ even if he can’t see it, and Percy moans around the omega’s cock as he finds gold. Slippery wet, his fingers slide right over it, two rubbing the twitching flesh of Credence’s rim, the other dipping in and feeling how the omega clenches around him. 

“I think I’m close, oh god, I thought I wanted to come inside you - but this is even better.” 

Percy’s head spins with the idea of Credence actually fucking him, because that  _ is _ what the omega had said earlier, though he’d taken it more in the general sense of the term, now he’s unable to keep acting the part of the saint. He reaches down with his free hand to grope himself, achingly hard, throbbing against the layers of fabric separating his cock from his palm. Credence puts both hands firmly into Percy’s hair, all but pushing his head down, keeping him gagging on the omega’s cock, feeling the rush of warmth against the back of his throat as he comes, and he lets go of himself to prevent from doing the same. Thrusting two fingers up inside of Credence’s hole, Percy can feel every twitch and pulse of his climax, as he begins to come down, the fluttering eases, and he slowly pulls off of the omega’s cock, letting it rest with a wet sound onto his stomach. 

“Oh god, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Credence’s hands are a gentle sort of frantic, petting at his face, on the sides of his cheeks, one thumb swiping along Percy’s bottom lip, catching any possible drooling strands of both saliva or wayward drops of omegan seed. 

“Not at all. I hope that was as good as it felt to watch for you as it was for me.” Percy says, voice a bit rough.

Credence whines, “Fucking amazing actually, but god, I’m so spent I need a minute to recover before I can do anything for you.” Percy shakes his head, grinning a little, feeling impossibly invigorated. It’s probably the weed. He puts his slick soaked hand to his mouth, sucking off his fingers, then starts tugging up his shirt, throwing it god knows where. “You’ve done plenty for me. Is there any chance you’d allow me to fuck you?”

Percy gets the impression that Credence probably tops more often than not. It’s confirmed when the omega sits up, gazing at him with glassy eyes and lips red from being bitten while Percy was blowing him. 

“Yeah. Do you have a condom?” Percy nods. “One, in my wallet. I’ll be right back-” Credence sits up suddenly, and nearly falls over onto the end of his bed. “No! Wait, I have some in there.” He gestures vaguely towards his nightstand, beside the bed. Percy opens the top drawer and finds a goldmine yet again. Three boxes worth. 

“But there are all for, ahem, someone of your size.” He says, chuckling a little, while also feeling a touch embarrassed. Credence rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re an Alpha. Come on, get up here. Show me what I’m working with.” Percy always thought of himself as more than adequate, it’s true, but tonight has been a night of surprises. He grabs one of the condoms anyway, putting the foil packet between his teeth, then standing up to lower the zip on his pants, pausing briefly as he finds Credence watching him like a deer in the headlights. He plucks the condom out of his mouth and smiles apologetically. 

“Please don’t be too excited, this part is always less sexy than you think.” 

Credence sniffs. “As if we’ve done this before? It’s  _ always _ exciting the first time you see a handsome Alpha’s dick. Come on, you don’t have anything to prove. Besides, you smell delicious. I’m going to want to bury my face in between your thighs later regardless.” Percy finishes undoing his pants, then just shoves his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, pushing them both down together, getting it all done in one move, like ripping off a band-aid. When he straightens back up and finds Credence still staring, now slightly open mouthed, he’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing yet. 

“Well?” Percy asks, and the omega falls back onto the bed, legs parting wide. 

“I’ve never asked anyone to fuck me, but I’m begging you now.” Credence tells him. 

Percy takes that as a good sign, even if it feels like a lie, so he tears open the packet and rolls on the condom. 

These days they feel like next to nothing, better than they were back when he was Credence’s age. 

Back then the excuse was it dulled sensation, made skin feel like plastic. Not anymore, Percy thinks with a smirk. “First, allow me one more indulgence.” He murmurs, and Credence bites his lip, nodding. 

He bypasses the omega’s mouth one final time in favor of having a taste of each of those budded nipples, then makes his way lower, nuzzling Credence’s still recovering cock, making the omega jump. 

Percy’s true destination still smells like honeyed vanilla, mint and something else he can’t put words to. 

Like an echo, it’s faint, but familiar. 

Credence’s ass is shiny wet, and dripping, giving Percy a mouthful of slick with the lightest touch of his lips, as he noses in deeper, thrusting his tongue past the tight outer rim, he hears the omega’s breathing hitch, and he reaches up with both hands to grab for Credence’s chest, thumbing against both spit slick buds. 

The softest whimper leaves the omega’s throat, and Percy’s cock throbs in response, reminding him of the agony he’s in. “Okay, okay.” He mumbles to himself, giving Credence’s hole one final lick, before making his way back up the omega’s gorgeous pale stomach, and burying his face in the side of his neck. 

“Are you ready now?” Percy asks. 

Credence nods, “But first, I need to be on my stomach.” 

Percy frowns, confused. “Uh, why? What’s wrong with this position?” 

This isn’t the right time to confess his hangups with missionary, or venturing beyond. 

Percy’s lifetime of sexual conquests, one night stands, guilty second meetings, or even the failed relationship with a woman shortly before he realized he was truly and fully gay have always been rather, vanilla. 

The irony is, despite Credence smelling exactly like a fresh baked cookie, he’s anything but basic. 

“I prefer doggy when I’m being fucked, less painful. It’s what I usually do when I top Alpha’s, to give them comfort. Anonymity too. They can pretend they aren’t betraying their classification for someone like me.”

Percy’s mild discomfort and shame is quickly replaced by righteous indignation on Credence’s behalf. 

“Jesus christ. Okay, yeah.” Who’s to say that position can’t be intimate? 

Maybe Percy can’t kiss Credence, or see his face as he first starts to push inside of the omega, but he  _ can _ kiss the side of his shoulder, the curve of his neck, feel every shuddering breath and skip in his pulse. 

He doesn’t make promises of lasting long, not with the Sativa racing through his body, emphasizing every single point of contact, setting his nerves on fire, making Percy feel like he’s regressing to boyhood, sweating and panting against the wall with a slender warm body underneath his own. Credence cries out and goes still, having been meeting him thrust for thrust, pushing up against him, despite his arms collapsing beneath him. 

Percy muffles a groan into the small of his upper back, and pumps his cock into Credence’s ass a couple more times before giving into his own climax, diving under the wave, being swept away, jaw slack against the omega’s sweat sticky skin, both arms shaky as he braces himself up. 

“This never happens to me.” Credence is saying. Percy feels like he’s underwater, breaking the surface, desperate for air. He pulls out of the omega and winces at the sight of how full that condom is. 

Thank god for it though, otherwise Credence would be the messy one. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading and or sticking around with my shitty writersblocked ass so longg [ps i wrote this in june lmfao]
> 
> it's not new but its the last real thing i did before my block hit me in the balls


End file.
